


In Bed with the Enemy

by completelyboggled



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Draco in a Nightdress, Exhibitionism, Fluff with a little smut, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Nightshirt!, Roommates, Voyeurism, bed sharing, fluffy fluff, stubborn boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completelyboggled/pseuds/completelyboggled
Summary: After being paired as roommates for their eighth year at Hogwarts, neither Draco or Harry are willing to give up the good bed.





	In Bed with the Enemy

"..the most cruel and unusual sort of punishment...Absurd!" Draco continued muttering as he made his way through the eighth year corridor with the other returned students. The start of term feast had just concluded and most were too exhausted or gorged on pasties to indulge the Slytherin's complaints. Most.

Harry scowled at him. "You know, believe it or not, you're not the only one suffering here."

"No, but _you're_ the only one of us who could do anything about it! Surely the _Golden Boy_ can get anything he wants- snap his fingers and make McGonagall change her mind."

"Are you kidding me? I have less say in the matter than anyone else! _Because_ I'm me. The professors are going out of their way to show I'm not getting special treatment this year," Harry argued.

"You poor thing, finally being treated like the rest of us _mere mortals._ " 

"I'm going to treat your jaw to my fist," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"Yes and I'll treat your nose to the heel of my boot. _Again_." Draco rolled his eyes.

As the group of students passed room after room, pairs slowly split off to get settled into their new assigned lodgings. 

"Good luck, mate," Ron said forlornly as he followed Ernie McMillan into their shared room. "He gives you any trouble, let me know," he added quietly before shutting the door.

"Oh yes, _do_ , Potter. I so love watching Weasel turn that hideous shade of red when he's trying not to have an aneurysm," Draco snorted.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry growled as he roughly pushed past to stand in front of the last door in the corridor.

Draco begrudgingly joined him in front of the room. _Their_ room.

When McGonagall had announced the implementation of the Alliance Lodging Initiative (A.L.I.), the new "proactive, unity encouraging living arrangement" for returning eighth years, nobody had imagined something quite so drastic. They certainly hadn't imagined being separated from those they'd roomed with for years to be paired up with someone from a different house. It went without saying that many were displeased with their new roommates, but by far, the most opposed to the idea were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

No one knew exactly why they'd been paired together. Hermione had hypothesized that it was the staff's way of encouraging the rest of the students to give unity a chance. If Harry and Draco could cooperate, surely everyone else could. Ron had guessed it was a sick, sick joke. Pansy Parkinson had insisted it was blatant and unfair retribution for Draco's participation in the war.

"Let's just get this over with," Harry said as he pushed the door open.

The two boys stepped inside and looked around the room. It wasn't terribly sized- smaller than the usual dormitories, but more spacious with only two residents. There wasn't much furniture. Just two identical wardrobes, two identical nightstands, and two not so identical beds. 

One bed was pushed up in a dank corner nearest the door leading to the drippy toilets. The mattress sagged on its springs and even _looked_ like it smelled of mildew. The other bed, however, near the room's broad window and tucked close to the fireplace, looked fluffy and inviting. With its curtains drawn back in welcome, it practically glowed in comparison to its opposite.

The boys looked at each other, the beds, and each other again. 

"There's no way-"

"If you think-"

They both lurched towards the warm bed, jostling elbows and jabs in attempts to get past each other. They reached the bed at the same time and threw themselves down onto opposite corners of it.

"It's mine-"

"-was here first!"

"-load of bollocks!"

"In your _dreams_ , Potter."

"Well I'm not moving." Harry clung tighter to his corner of the bed. "And there's nothing you can do to make me," he said, smirking deviously.

Both boys knew perfectly well that since the implementation of the inter-house dormitory assignments, as a safety precaution, the rooms had been spelled to prevent the use of any offensive charms, jinxes or hexes. 

"Oh there's not, is there?" Draco challenged, his eyebrow twitching up a fraction.

They glared at each other before launching into motion again. Draco pounced first, doing his best to push Harry from the mattress, but Harry was equally prepared to fight for it.

"What, do you- _mmph!_ \- break out in hives any time you don't get- _ugh!_ \- the very best of everything?" Harry grunted as he struggled to gain a dominant position. Despite the Gryffindor's strength, Draco was surprisingly nimble and repeatedly evaded being pinned.

"You just think you're- _oomph!_ \- entitled to the best because you're _the Savior_!" Draco huffed, maneuvering himself away from the edge he had been pushed towards.

As they rolled and tumbled, Harry landed a knee to Draco's stomach at the same time Draco took a swipe at the side of Harry's head, causing his glasses frames to cut into his cheek. They both yelped as they were swiftly drawn apart by an invisible force. Evidently, the room had been charmed against any physical violence as well as magical.

Draco angrily pushed himself up, panting and sweating. "Un _fucking_ believable," he muttered as he forcefully tugged off his school robes and sent them to the closest wardrobe.

"That I'm being forced to live with you? Yeah, it is," Harry said as he pulled at his own robes and tossed them across the bed. They hit Draco square in the face before falling into his lap. Draco snarled and sliced his wand through the air, sending the robes soaring to the toilets. They could both hear the plunging splash from the bed.

"You're a slimy git, you know that?" Harry spat. "You sure you wouldn't be more comfortable over there with the slimy bed? Surely, it's just like the dungeons. Like Slytherin dorms. Or better yet, just like the basement at your Manor. I bet you'd feel right at home." 

Draco's eyes flashed with anger and his wand twitched in his grip. "Take. That. Back," he grit out, his voice dangerously quiet. "If it's anything like a dungeon, you can be certain I'm not going near it. I'm through with dungeons, do you hear me?"

Harry dropped his eyes to Draco's covered forearm, having the decency to look chagrined. After the Death Eater trials, there weren't many who hadn't heard of Voldemort's treatment of the Malfoys, punishing them and nearly making them prisoners of their own manor by the end of the war.

"Take it back."

Harry looked up at the way Draco's words had lost a good deal of their bite and instead sounded like a defeated request. 

Harry nodded. "Alright, I had no place to say something like that. I'm sorry."

An uncomfortable silence fell before Draco took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Good. Apology accepted. Prat."

Harry rolled his eyes, the heaviness of the moment lightened. "Pillock," he shot back.

"Plebeian."

"Oh, piss off, Malfoy," Harry said with only mild irritation in his voice.

"No, I don't think I will," Draco said calmly, his tone of superior indifference returned. "If you honestly think I'm giving up this bed, you're even less intelligent than you look." He looked Harry over once. "And that's saying something." 

Draco missed the roll of Harry's eyes as he summoned his trunk from the center of the room and began unpacking from where he sat. His clean clothes flew to the empty hangers beside his robes. From the bottom of the trunk, he pulled a long white gown and laid it across his knees. With delicate fingers, he began carefully untying the cord that laced up the neck of the garment.

"What on earth are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I've had enough of you for one day, Potty. I'm getting ready to sleep. What does it look like?" Draco asked as he pulled at his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. 

"It _looks_ like you're to be a blushing bride," Harry sniggered, reaching across the bed to finger at the ruffled silk sleeves. "Merlin, is that a _nightdress?_ "

Draco sneered and swatted at the reaching hand. Despite the vitriol in his stare, his face was tinged pink. "Do sod off. It's a nightshirt. It's an heirloom and happens to be very traditional."

"It's pompous and ugly," Harry said, muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head, knocking his glasses askew. He tossed the shirt to the floor, the action met with a disgruntled noise from Draco.

"And I'm sure your tattered rags are _much_ better," Draco rebutted, tugging off his own shirt and sending it floating to the wardrobe hamper before quickly donning the nightshirt.

"I do not sleep in rags, arsehole." Harry kicked off his shoes and flopped back onto the bed to unbutton his trousers. He shimmied them down his legs, leaving him in only a pair of dark blue boxers and mismatched socks. "Not ratty at all," he said, giving his dressings a once over for holes or tears.

Draco angled his head just enough to see him and scoffed. "Really? _That's_ what you sleep in? Tell me, is it a Gryffindor trait to lack all sense of propriety? Or is that something specific to you?"

Harry tossed his trousers in a heap on the floor and shrugged. "I'm a warm sleeper. Of course, I could sleep starkers if that gives me a better chance of getting you out of this bed."

Draco made a choking sound and stared at Harry like he was mad. "You wouldn't. Not when I could just go to the Prophet to tell them exactly how small your prick is." He bent down to carefully untie his shoes and slip them off, his socks following. With a flick of his wand, they shot to their respective places in the wardrobe.

"I doubt you'd do that. You'd have to explain exactly why it is that you've willingly seen my prick," Harry said as he laid back against the pillow. "And it's not small."

"Sure, it's not," Draco said sardonically as he pulled his own pillow from home out of his trunk. "And then _you_ would have to explain why you've willingly had your prick out in bed with another boy. _'Savior Potter: Sick Exhibitionist'_ splashed on the front page."

" _'Draco Malfoy: Dodgy Voyeur'_ more like."

"Damn it, Potter!" Draco snapped suddenly. "You will not get me out of this bed."

"You _sure_?" Harry toyed with the elastic of his boxers.

Draco's blush returned, along with his scowl. "Hexes may be forbidden in here but there are other ways of removing or otherwise disfiguring appendages." Leaning back, Draco reached beneath his nightshirt to undo his trousers and slip them and his pants off. They were sent to the hamper.

Harry's eyes widened. "What are-? You just- What?" He spluttered. 

"Oh the _hypocrisy_ ," Draco rolled his eyes. 

"I'm the hypocrite?! All that you just said and you're- you're just...naked under there?"

"Of course you're the hypocrite. You use nudity as a threat but can't handle it in return." He addressed Harry dully and waving a hand down the length of his shirt, "It's _traditional_. And as you can see, I at least have the decency to remain covered."

"I didn't say it was... I'm- I was just surprised, 's all," he said, his cheeks now a bright red.

"Right." Draco spelled his teeth clean and tabled his wand. "I'm going to sleep. Don't you dare touch me," he said as he slipped beneath the sheet.

Harry frowned at the back turned to him. "Likewise...ferret." 

For a moment, he looked around the quiet room, then accioed the second bedside table which screeched its way across the stone floor before coming to rest beside his pillow. At Draco's loud sigh, Harry rolled to lay facing outward, placing his wand and glasses on the table before covering himself with the sheet as well.

"You're not going to even clean your teeth?" Draco asked in disgust.

"Saving up for the morning breath," Harry deadpanned. 

"Brute."

"Toff."

The wall sconces automatically dimmed so that the only remaining light came from the moon and the small fire in the hearth. The boys laid silent, uncomfortably tucked together in the narrow bed, but neither willing to surrender.

"I'm going to fart on you in your sleep," Harry  mumbled.

"Do so and I will strangle you the second you leave this room."

\---

"Potter, get that thing the _fuck_ away from me!"

Harry blinked his eyes open. The room was just starting to brighten with the pink morning light trickling through the window. He lingered, gazing up at the ceiling in a dazed waking state before he being rudely kicked in the shin.

"Mwhat?" He grumbled.

Draco was as far to his side of the bed as he could be without falling out, the sheet held up to his nightgowned chest. He was staring, not at Harry's face, but further down his body.

"You filthy degenerate," he muttered hysterically. "Keep _that_ away from me," he grit out before muttering to himself once more about how _unbelievable_ and _the nerve_. A heavy blush coloured his cheekbones and the tips of his ears.

Harry looked down his own body to see what Draco was goggled at. He must have kicked the sheet down during the night because, while his feet were still amply covered, the rather importunate bulge straining against the fabric of his pants was now wholly on display.

"Jesus, 's not like I c'n help it," Harry mumbled, his tongue still heavy with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and blindly pawed at his bedside table for his glasses.

"Like hell you can't, you- you pervert!" Draco croaked, eyes still fixed wildly below Harry's waist.

Harry snorted and looked over at the blond through his lenses. After a long pause, his lips drew up in a slow smirk, his expression both amused and challenging. "Well there is one way to help it, I suppose," he said as he reached down over his pants and gave the firm length an adjusting squeeze.

Draco gasped in horror, gaping at Harry. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!"

Harry offered a noncommittal noise and shrugged as he gave his erection another slow stroke. "Uncomfortable with the male form, Malfoy?" He asked cheekily. He released a little sigh of pleasure. "You know, you could always just- _ahh-_ just switch beds and I'll shut these curtains and," his hips jerked up a little, "fi-inish in peace."

Draco finally pulled his eyes away from Harry's groin to glare up at him in disbelief. "I'm not going anywhere! You are not getting me out of this bed. And for your information, I happen to have no problem whatsoever with the _male form_ , only with _you_ being such a-a vile, uncouth-"

Harry's hand slowed and a look of confusion passed his face. "Wait, you what?" 

Their eyes met briefly before Harry's hips canted up into his hand and his eyes rolled back. "Oh fuck," he groaned deeply.

He released himself just long enough to slip his hand under the waistband of his pants. When he touched himself again, he gasped a breathy sound and let his eyes close completely. 

"Merlin's-" Draco clutched desperately at the top of the sheet and his face flushed a deeper red. " _Potter_ ," he squeaked in protest, though his eyes were fixed once again on the object of Harry's ministrations, pupils blown wide.

As Harry worked his fist, the elastic waist of his pants shifted down over his knuckles, one by one, until revealing the dark, gleaming cockhead peeking out beneath his shifting foreskin. A pearly bead of fluid was just beginning to work its way from the slit, sliding towards his thumb.

Draco watched with wide eyes as Harry alternated between swift, two fingered strokes and long, slow tugs, each movement causing his pants to creep further down and more skin to be exposed. Harry hadn't been lying. It wasn't small.

"Bloody hell," Draco whimpered as a sweat broke at his temples. 

Harry, who was beginning to stutter out harsh, uneven breaths, didn't hear the utterance over his own grunts of pleasure. 

Draco glanced up Harry's body, eyes lingering just beneath his jawline where his pulse hammered under flushed skin and a thin sheen of perspiration. He followed the curve of his throat to the dip between his collarbones to the whisps of hair on his chest to his tan, pebbled nipples.

Draco licked his lips and shifted uncomfortably on his side of the bed, his hips beginning to rut upwards helplessly.

He watched Harry's stomach muscles contract underneath a thin trail of dark hair before his eyes fell back to his cock, which was even more rigid than before. It was now fully bared, even bollocks resting atop the navy fabric of his boxers. They were flushed and heavy looking beneath the coarse hair that covered them.

Harry's left hand, which had been clutching fists in the sheet, suddenly moved to brush over them, cupping and rolling them gently in his palm. His middle finger slipped further still to massage at the skin behind them. 

Draco let out something of a sob and Harry's eyes cracked open. He looked at the blond who was now breathing fast and heavily through his mouth, reluctant little sounds slipping out every few exhales. The fingers held at his chest were white and purple from grasping the sheet so tightly. And while he looked scared, there was also a reverence in his gaze. Harry's eyes lowered to the unmistakable shape gyrating against the sheet over Draco's lap. Draco Malfoy was aroused.

"Christ, Malfoy," Harry whined before contracting forward and crying out. Thick ropes of white pulsed out over his hand and straining stomach muscles. He juddered and gasped as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, the pad of his thumb occasionally brushing over his cockhead and smearing the last spurts of come.

Draco's eyes bulged, astonished at the obscene display. He turned quickly to face the outside of the bed and curled in on himself, his body tensing as he came with a silent cry.

Then everything was still. The thick, sex-heavy air settled around them in the quiet.

When Harry was capable of prying his eyes open, he tilted his head to the side. Draco's back was to him, his whole body wracked with shudders and the back of his neck a deep red. 

Harry used his wand to spell himself clean and carefully worked his boxers back up over his hips.

"I...er," he cleared his throat and blinked as he came to. He chuckled nervously while fighting to steady his breath. "That, um, that wasn't exactly what I thought would happen."

He was met with silence so continued. 

"But, er, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you...you kind of...enjoyed it..." he said quietly, his tone more hesitantly curious than accusatory. It sounded like a question.

Suddenly, Draco flung back the covers and left the bed, too livid to speak. He grabbed only his wand and stomped to the lavatory, throwing the door open and then closed behind him. The lock clicking was exceptionally loud in the silent room. 

Harry blew out a long breath through puffed cheeks. His eyes hadn't missed Draco's disheveled appearance nor the damp spot on the front of his silk nightshirt. 

After several more cleaning charms- an extra to freshen his morning mouth- Harry got up and started dressing for class, occasionally ducking when an item of Draco's clothing or a toiletry went sailing in the direction of the lavatory. When Draco finally came looking fractionally more composed, Harry stood awkwardly. Draco's cheeks were still pink but his glare was icy.

Harry held his palms up. "Ok, I know that was a shitty thing for me to do."

"No, no! I kind of enjoyed it, _remember_? Fuck's sake, Potter. What is wrong with you? Have you always had one off the wrist in front of your roommates?"

"Of course not. I've...I've never done anything like that before. Ever actually." Harry scratched at his hair looking just as confused as he did miserable.

Draco's eyes narrowed further. "Excuse me for finding that hard to believe, because if you've never done it in front of them, why _the fuck_ are you ok doing it in front of me?"

"I-I," Harry stuttered, suddenly looking quite unsure of himself. The crease between his eyebrows deepened and he started fingering the side of his trouser legs. "I don't-"

"Who put you up to it then?"

"What? Nobo-"

"Was it Pansy? Blaise? What did they tell you?" He hissed. "Because whatever they said, it's not true."

"Nobody told me anything! I thought it would make you leave and then I just...I got carried away!" Harry shoved his hands deep in his pockets before his face twisted in confusion. "Wait, why? What would they have told me?"

Draco blanched, stumbling for words for a moment before clenching his jaw shut. With a growl, he grabbed his book bag and headed for the door. Harry reached for his arm but he wrenched it away. 

"No, what would they have said?" Harry asked again.

"I'm leaving, Potter. I suggest you hurry along and fetch your robes from the u-bend unless you want to be late for your first class of the term," Draco sneered before leaving the room in a huff.

"Bloody hell," Harry groaned before heading to the toilets.

\---

It was nearly curfew when Harry entered the dorm, ruddy cheeked and breathing hard from jogging the length of the castle. He frowned seeing all his possessions dumped haphazardly near the dark bed in the corner. Draco's things, however, were neatly arranged on the inviting side of the room. The boy himself was sat in the middle of the nice bed, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, a positively gleeful smile on his face. 

Harry's frown deepened. "Why weren't you at Quidditch?" He demanded.

Draco's smile faltered. 

"Look," Harry swiped his hair, still wet from the showers, out of his face, "I said I was sorry for this morning."

"It has nothing to do with that."

"Then you skipped it, why? Just so you could get a head start back here and kick me out of the bed?"

Draco straightened and swung his feet to the floor. "Just shut up, Potter."

Harry dropped his bag and robes and walked forward. "Merlin, I mean, I've always known you were petty, but I didn't think you'd pass up Quidditch for something so stu-"

"Shut _up_ , Potter!" He snapped again. "I didn't skip anything! I wasn't invited into you're stupid bloody Quidditch club."

Harry stalled midstep. "You weren't invited? But all the eighth- I thought everyone-" He grimaced at the thinly veiled disappointment on Draco's face. "I-I didn't know. I'm sorry," he said, all the fire gone from his voice. "I can talk to the others. I'm sure they'd-"

"Oh don't start on with your noble deeds now," Draco interrupted. "The others don't want me and I don't need them. Besides," he lifted his chin, regaining a fraction of his previous confidence, "it gave me plenty of time to, oh...get settled in. Make myself at home."

With a humph, Harry started towards the bed again, but was stopped a few feet away by an invisible barrier. 

Draco grinned, the excited gleam returning to his eye.

"Really, Malfoy?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He lifted his palm to feel the force that was preventing him from moving further. He huffed. It was obviously a good ward- stable and well constructed. 

"Right," Harry said, raising his wand. With a look of stern concentration, he dragged it through the air, murmuring the counter spell under his breath. The wards shivered for a moment before breaking down completely.

Draco surged forward on the bed in disbelief. "Wha-! How?!" He gaped as Harry repocketted his wand. 

"I spent the better part of a year on the run. I do have _some_ experience with wards," Harry said flatly. He stalked forward, flopping down heavily on his claimed side of the mattress and summoning his pillow and bedside table from across the room in one fell swoop. "You may be more clever than I am, Malfoy, but I'm still stronger than you."

Draco tossed himself back against his pillow, arms folded at his chest. "Why do you insist on badgering me?" He groused.

"Who knows? Maybe I just can't get enough of that irresistible Malfoy charm of yours," Harry snorted. "Why do you always fuck with me?"

"Must be that _'I'm a hero, shower me with your affections'_ air you give off," Draco said on a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, 'cause you're so affectionate," Harry chuckled. "I don't think you really believe that of me anyway."

"You could have stopped at the word _'think'_ ," Draco drawled, inspiring Harry to give a two fingered salute.

After a minute, Harry said, "You should come to the pitch next practise." 

Draco made a disgruntled noise. 

"Seriously. The school just got a new Quidditch set. The snitch is wicked fast. I'd love the opportunity to beat your ass to it."

"Piss off," Draco said tiredly.

"I'm just trying to be civil, Malfoy."

"By bringing up an activity from which I've been proscribed?" He asked incredulously, his voice steadily growing stronger. "Clearly, civility is among the many social skills you lack."

Harry frowned. "I was just tr-"

"Well _stop_ trying, Potter! I don't need your failed attempts! Fuck!" Draco roughly pushed his hair out of his face. 

Harry stayed quiet, turning onto his side and watching the other boy carefully. His eyes were closed and his mouth was turned downward. His nostrils flared the slightest bit on inhales as he obviously tried to calm himself.

After a minute, Draco's tone changed, coming out soft and despondent. "If you...I don't..." He laughed humourlessly, opening his eyes to search the bed's canopy. "Salazar, I think you're driving me mad."

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Yeah, you too."

Draco sighed and faced away. He carefully unbuttoned his school shirt and shucked it gracefully. He continued stripping down until he was left in a rather tight pair of black shorts. He paused as he lifted the sheet, frowning at Harry's dumbfounded expression. 

"What?" He mumbled.

"You're wearing that? Mr. Propriety, himself is wearing... _hot pants_ to bed? Where's your nightdress?"

Draco's neck flushed. "My night _shirt_ had to be sent out...for special cleaning," he added quietly.

"You only have the one?"

Draco rolled his eyes, mumbling about _what don't you understand about an heirloom?_ before fixing Harry with a flat stare. "Obviously. Would I be dressed like this otherwise?"

"I, uh, I dunno...er...maybe?"

Draco eyed him closely, lips pursed. "You wish, Potter."

"N-no, I don't," Harry rasped, pushing himself to a sitting position.

After another scrutinizing look, Draco inhaled deeply and rolled over, pulling the sheet up. "Well, I'm going to sleep. If you wake me, I _will_ find a way to hurt you," he threatened without much heat in his words.

Harry nodded, watching dazedly as the sheet draped Draco's waist. "Yeah. Yeah, I've got some Potions reading to do for Professor Nithercott, then I'll-"

"Potter, shut up."

"Mm?"

"I do not care," Draco said blandly as he flicked his wand at the sconces. 

"Git," Harry huffed in the dimmed light. " _Accio Magical Drafts and Potions_."

\---

Draco was woken by a sharp kick to the back of the thigh. He groaned before another landed. Then another. Then a shove to the middle of his back. 

"Cut it out, you arsehole," he grumbled, turning over while trying to push Harry's flailing arms and legs away. "I told you, you're not kicking me out."

Then Harry cried out. Not in protest, but a genuine, anguished cry. In the moonlight, Draco saw Harry's face, contorted, grief stricken, and tear stained. 

Nightmares.

"Potter," he said evenly. Louder when he got no response. "Potter, wake up."

Harry thrashed again, releasing another string of sobs. Draco pushed the boy back and leaned over him, struggling to pin his jerking arms.

"Potter! WAKE. UP."

Harry's eyes snapped open wide. He stopped struggling and lie panting, watching Draco who stared down, bewildered. 

" _Merlin_ ," Draco muttered as he flopped heavily back onto his side of the bed.

After a long moment of staring blankly, Harry began to wake up and comprehension of the situation dawned. He groaned, rolling onto his front and pulling his pillow beneath his chest.

"Just get out," he moaned miserably into it, the sentiment punctuated by a wet sniff.

Draco didn't move, unsure of exactly what to do. This was far from the confident, snarky Harry Potter. This one was fragile and terrifyingly similar to Draco himself on bad nights when he'd wake up terrified and alone. It could have easily been the blond thrashing about and fighting his ghosts.

With a sigh, something softened in Draco's stare. "You can be such an idiot, Potter," he said quietly. "I'm not leaving."

Harry made a garbled, frustrated noise in his throat. "Fine. You fucking win." He moved to push himself upright but his wrist was caught by Draco.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked.

"I told you, you win. I'm going. Just leave me alone."

"No. I just- I'm not going to leave you alone. Don't go over there right now." Draco glanced at the cold, empty bed in the corner.

"Why? You want me to stay so you can lie there and mock me?" He hiccuped and swiped at the wetness on his cheeks with his free hand. "Malfoy, I get it, you hate me, that's fine, but I'm too bloody tired to fight with you tonight. Let go of my arm."

"No, I- look, stop pushing me-" Draco held firm as Harry struggled, trying to free his wrist.

"Malfoy-"

" _No_."

He suddenly pulled Harry close, catching the boy by surprise and quickly wrapping his arms around him. Harry stilled in shock when Draco pressed his cheek to his temple, so close that his lips brushed the tip of Harry's ear when he spoke again.

"You're staying here," he said pointedly, "and I'm staying with you, you daft Gryffindor." 

In a surprisingly tenderhearted gesture, he began absently stroking the back of Harry's hair, running his fingers through the untidy curls. His free hand reached for his wand, flicking it to send small glowing lights that smelled of jasmine floating around above their heads. He replaced the wand on the bedside table and turned to hold Harry firmly once more. 

Slowly, Harry's breathing evened out and his sniffles died down. 

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked weakly.

Draco's hand stilled briefly. "Because I know what it's like to need it."

When the hand in his hair resumed its caress, Harry relaxed, burrowing his face more deeply into the pale neck before him. After a deep breath, he whispered a thank you against Draco's collarbone. Draco didn't speak, but gave a small nod.

Harry fell back asleep soon after while Draco held him close, watching the tiny lights bob along the bed’s canopy.

\---

Like the previous morning, Draco was the first to wake. He came to slowly, taking long breaths of Harry's spiced shampoo before realising his face was still nuzzled into that dark mane of hair. He pulled back and looked down. With scarred forehead resting against scarred chest, the sleeping boy breathed deeply, peacefully. 

One of Draco's arms remained trapped numbly under Harry's shoulder. The other now laid between them, his fingers resting in a loose tangle with Harry's. Their knees kissed at the border of where the sheet lay still covering Draco and kicked away from Harry.

Draco opened his mouth to say something when Harry jostled in his sleep.

"Hn!" He grunted, jerking awake and slowly working his eyes open. Like Draco, Harry drew back, taking stock of where he was and who he was wrapped up in. Finally, squinting through the blur of not having his glasses, he looked up to Draco's face. The blond stared back. They remained silent, just watching each other, resolutely ignoring the blush on each other's faces and the tickling of their hands' positions.

Eventually, Harry extracted himself, rolling to retrieve his glasses and sit up with his feet swinging to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and down over his face before resting both palms on his knees. "Ok," he said to no one in particular.

Draco sat up as well, mirroring Harry's position on the other side of the bed. He took a deep breath through his nose, held it, and let it out, letting his body sag contentedly. He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "Ok."

He stood up and made his way to his wardrobe to pick out his clothes for the day. 

They got ready in silence- an odd, but not entirely uncomfortable silence- each boy occasionally casting glances over his shoulder at the other.

When it was time to leave for class, Harry cleared his throat quietly. "So...I'd better not come back here to find you in my bed, Malfoy," he said, one corner of his lips ticking upwards.

Draco smirked at that, picking up his bag. "I'd like to see you try to get me out of it, Potter."

Harry chuckled, "Twat."

"Tosser."

Harry shook his head, small smile still on his face. "I'll see you, Malfoy."

Draco paused at the door and nodded once. "Yeah, Potter. See you."

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first (and maybe only) attempt at third person POV that is this distant and boy was it harder than I expected! So please try not to judge me too harshly and tell me it worked at least a little?
> 
> Also I don't feel like I should need to say this, but just in case: The fanfic world can be very different from the real world. Don't masturbate in front of people who don't want to be masturbated in front of. You will probably get arrested! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! xoxox
> 
> All characters belong to JK Rowling.


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